"How does it feel?"

"Huh?" He blinked and rolled over on the picnic rug just enough to catch sight of her face. "How does what feel?"

"Your wings. How does it feel to lift them? I've wondered about it for a long time."

A frown and he pushed himself up onto his elbow. He was shirtless as he was wont to be, the day was warm but not hot and he rarely denied himself the freedom in privacy. They had stashed themselves in a forested hollow hidden in the rocks on the island. It was a favourite spot, sheltered and shady and perfect to lay a rug out and just sit and daydream.

"You've seen us lift many times."

"Yes, but how does it feel? Does it hurt?"

Did it hurt? "Sometimes. Not always." Sometimes it was a relief as if his feathers were aching to be released. Other times they burned, most often if he was injured. In certain circumstances it was pleasurable. "Depends on the situation."

"What do you mean?" Kay's eyes were intense. This obviously meant a great deal to her.

"Well, they don't like being confined."

"What? Why?"

He shrugged, hidden feathers tingling at the thought. "Their natural state is to be free, maybe? I'm not sure."

She reached out a hand and gently traced a single line of his mark across his shoulder. Her touch was electric and he shivered.

Her finger drifted down his arm.

A smile as he released his skin feathers, the almost soft down that was prerequisite to full lift.

She jumped, snatching her hand away.

"It's okay, you can touch." He reached out and grabbed her hand and brought it back to his arm.

Her fingertips were hesitant at first, but eventually she gained confidence and slid between the filaments.

He sighed as his full span lifted involuntarily.

She snatched her hand away. "Virgil?"

A snort. "That was unexpected. I'm sorry." His flight feathers rustled against his back, itching to spread, to stretch to their full width.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at her and smiled. "I'm fine. You did nothing wrong." He pushed himself up to a sitting position and was forced to unfurl his wings for comfort. The glade wasn't very big. There wasn't room for his full eight metres, but he had to release the tension at least a little. He shifted his shoulders and the ends of his wings batted at foliage.

Kay was staring at them.

"Did you want to touch?"

Her eyes widened. Everyone knew that you did not touch the Tracy brothers' wings. Sensitive and very personal, she had been taught that rule from a very early age.

Hadn't stopped her from wondering.

He nudged his right wing closer, gently easing it around her, a little awkwardly in the cramped conditions, but ultimately wrapping her in his feathers.

Eyes still wide, she reached out and brushed her fingers against his forewing.

Her touch was ever so soft and it rippled across his nerves.

Kay was smiling.

A smile of his own curled his lips. "You can't hurt me."

Her amazement immediately turned to a flat-eyed glare.

He held up his hands. "Okay. Okay. You are quite capable of hurting me, in many various, creative, and painful ways." He reached over and cupped her jaw. "But you wouldn't. I trust you." His thumb brushed over her cheek and she leant into him.

His wing wrapped tighter and around her and he drew her in close. His left wing matched the curl of his right and she was cradled in his arms, wrapped in black feathers.

A kiss to her forehead and she nestled under his chin, one hand splayed against his chest, the other curling around his waist, fingers tangling in the multitude of feathers cascading down his back.

"So soft."

"Some. My primaries are much stiffer." He shifted a little, exposing a sample of those feathers for her inspection."

Her hand reached out and touched flight feathers.

Despite himself, he shivered.

"They're sensitive."

"Yes."

"But strong."

"Yes."

"They're you."

He kissed her hair. "That they are."

"They're beautiful."

His arms tightened about her and his feathers rustled even more.

-o-o-o-